


Do You Want Me To Stop

by InnerSpectrum



Series: Mystrade is Our Division Prompts [77]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Facebook: Mystrade is our Division Fic Prompts, Light Bondage, M/M, Mystrade is our Division FB Fic Prompts, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:08:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22681495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: Greg is captured, restrained with his own handcuffs and tortured - in the best way.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: Mystrade is Our Division Prompts [77]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1090899
Comments: 8
Kudos: 57





	Do You Want Me To Stop

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Mystrade is our Division FB Fic Prompts | Stop

Gregory Lestrade struggled against the handcuffs digging into his wrists. He is a seasoned cop, a respected police officer, yet there he was. He knew he should not struggle, it only made things worse, but he could not help it. It was his fault that they had tightened. The moment he entered the room and felt how quickly his own handcuffs were taken and slapped against his wrist he knew he was done for.

He had been blindfolded, stripped, his feet equally restrained, and he had been gagged. The only senses left to him were his hearing and touch. His torturer used those two senses to precision. With his voice low and growling he would whisper not so veiled threats on exactly what he was about to do. Or he would offer choices, each direr that the previous one offered. Then either he'd pick one at random and torture him with it or come up with something worse and do that to him instead.

It could have been half of an hour, it could have been half of a day. He did not know. All he knew was that he wanted nothing more than to get his hands on his torturer. The torturer who most certainly enjoyed his work.

He tensed as he felt a tiny metal point dig into his flesh, and then another and then another. Sometimes fast, sometimes achingly slow. All of it making him twitch against restraints more, groan against the gag loud. It felt as though every synapse in his body screamed. He felt it wash over him in one long sibilant as his body trembled violently.

Caught up in the throes of what was being done to him, he had sub-spaced and unwittingly dropped the ball.

Literally.

The blindfold was suddenly removed. Greg blinked as he stared into the eyes of the smirking blue smoke-eyed incubus inside of him. The blindfold and the dropped tennis ball were held in one hand. The Wartenberg Pinwheel that had danced across his tumescence skin was held in the other. It was poised just on the tip of his cock that dripped with precum from the expert edging of his husband.

Mycroft licked Greg lips around the gag and drew out a sound from Greg that might have made him ashamed of how desperately he moaned were he not in fact that desperate.

His dropping the ball - the same as calling _yellow or red_ – was an accident, and they both knew it.

Greg was one good touch away from losing it, and they both knew that as well.

The Dom rolled the pinwheel exactly one notch over the sub’s throbbing cock.

Mycroft gave Greg a most wolfish grin that just did _things…_

Though they both knew the answer, Mycroft still had to ask.

The Dom leaned in close to his sub, his smooth voice a husky whisper…

“Do you want me to stop?”


End file.
